Brigandage
by Cheryl Dyson
Summary: Pirates of the Caribbean crossover. Draco disappears through a mysterious mirror and Harry is sent to retrieve him. Enter Jack Sparrow. Mature content and threesome warning. Pretty fluffy other than that.


**Brigandage**

POTC Crossover (Harry/Draco/Jack Sparrow)

Misc. Notes: This fic takes place about a year after Jack acquires the Black Pearl. He is in the process of looking for information on the sword he seeks. This was also written for hpstrangelove on Livejournal in payment for her charitable donation to livelongnmarry which supports gay rights. She paid cash money for this, so I hope she found it worthy!

It happened in Draco's fifth month of spring cleaning. Technically, spring had sprung and flipped into summer, but the accumulated detritus of Malfoy Manor would likely drag him into _next_ spring before he finished cataloguing the huge assortment of items collected and stored by generations of Malfoys. It had been his mother's idea after the unexpected death of Lucius in Azkaban. Draco suspected fellow prisoners or guards to be at fault, although none of it could be proven, of course. _Suicide_ was the official diagnosis, an idea so ludicrous it had thrown Draco into a rage so severe it had taken the house-elves a week to clear the debris from his room. He still bemoaned the loss of his Quidditch figurine collection.

When his mother had suggested he start moulding the mansion into his image, as befit his new status as Lord of Malfoy Manor, Draco had jumped into the task with an almost vengeful eagerness. Banished were the moth-eaten tapestries that had adorned the front hall, gone were the busts of his wretched ancestors, and buried in the back yard were horrific knick-knacks collected by Malfoys with an unprecedented lack of taste.

Draco had begun with the attic and sorted items into three basics categories. Trash, naturally, although these items had been relegated to an unused room on the third floor because their destruction could result in some dangerous consequences. Followed by Items to Relocate, preferably to other areas of the planet. The third category was Items to Keep, some of which had already made their way to areas of the Manor based on Draco's superior decorating skills.

Many of the Items to Keep were Dark Artifacts whose purpose was either unknown or unacceptable to release on the unsuspecting. Such seemed to be the case with the Mirror.

Draco had discovered it in an unused corner of a tiny bedroom in the West Wing. The room had been filled with "old lady" items, including frilly quilts, an incredible amount of magic yarn, and an almost terrifying collection of dolls, all of which Draco had immediately donated to a wizarding orphanage with a shudder of relief.

The Mirror, however, was interesting. It was full-sized, rectangular, and rested in a heavy wooden frame carved with arcane symbols and writing in Ancient Runic. It had taken Draco a week of study to remember how to pronounce the symbols—Hogwarts studies in Ancient Runic had been six years previous—and even then they made no sense. Perhaps the bloody thing was not magic at all.

He traced the symbols and mumbled the idiotic words. "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me."

With a flare of gold, the Mirror turned into a swirl of power that reached out and yanked Draco inside before he could as much as gasp in surprise.

OOoOO

Harry was not at all pleased at having been assigned to the Malfoy case. So Draco Malfoy had disappeared. Who cared, really? Aside from his mother, of course, who had raised hell with the press until the Ministry had been forced to assign someone high profile to the case, lest the questionable circumstances around Lucius Malfoy's death be revealed. Harry had questions of his own about that, but he had never brought them up because, after all, it was Lucius Malfoy. The world was better off without him.

Of course, it was far easier to rationalize that while sitting pompously in his office at the Ministry than standing uncomfortably before the pale-faced widow who had lost her husband and now her son.

"The house-elves say he was last seen in the room of Elspeth Amentina Malfoy. She collected several bizarre artifacts during her travels—she spent a particularly long time in New Orleans, apparently that is in America. I searched the room, of course, but found no sign of anything that might have taken him."

She blinked rapidly and looked away. Harry felt a brief moment of pity. Regardless of his personal feelings toward the Malfoys, no mother deserved to lose her son. Not even one as wretched and worthless as Draco.

"I'll find him, Mrs. Malfoy," he promised and hoped he was not committing himself to the impossible. After all, it was documented that Malfoy Manor contained more Dark Arts items than could be counted.

"The house elves will show you to Elspeth's room," Narcissa said and turned away. Harry nodded and followed the suspicious-looking creature.

"Do you know what happened to Master Draco?" Harry asked as he plodded after the house-elf, who seemed to be clad in a threadbare seat cushion.

"The Mirror took him," the elf said in a hushed tone.

Harry pursed his lips. "The Mirror took him. Where did the Mirror take him?"

The house-elf turned irritated eyes on him. "This elf is not knowing, of course, or this elf would be telling Mistress Narcissa and bringing back Master Draco."

"Of course," Harry said mildly. Before he could ask further questions, a door was opened and Harry stood before the mirror in question. He examined it closely and cast several spells. It radiated magic, but nothing more serious than an Enhancing Spell to make the viewer more visually attractive. Harry flexed muscles that appeared far larger than normal and smiled at himself through perfectly white teeth. "Nice mirror."

The house-elf shook his head. "Not nice Mirror! Wicked, wicked Mirror!"

"Hmmm." Harry peered more closely at the carvings around the edges of the frame. Most likely Draco had become tired of cleaning the Manor and had zipped off for a short vacation. He seriously doubted this innocuous mirror had anything to do with it, especially when he read the ridiculous writing around the edges. He mentally grinned at Hermione when he muttered the words aloud, thinking it well worth her tutelage to be able to read such nonsense. "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me. How utterly ridic—"

He had not quite finished his sentence before a strange pulling sensation sucked him into the very mirror he mocked.

OOoOO

Draco staggered slightly and then fell to his knees, feeling as though he had been compressed through a very small tube. It had been similar to Apparition, but worse. _Bloody hell, the stupid mirror_, he thought, battling nausea. Without bothering to regain his feet, he turned his head to take in his surroundings.

He was in a tiny room piled high with wooden crates, lengths of rope, odd-looking cages, a wardrobe with a cracked mirror, and a stack of boots. Everything was covered with a thick layer of dust. It looked like nothing more than a storage room. Draco climbed to his feet and turned around to see a large mirror that should have been a twin to the one at Malfoy Manor. Instead, this one seemed to have a plain wooden frame and looked almost handmade.

_Where the hell am I? Another secret room of Malfoy Manor? Are these a pair of teleporting mirrors?_ Experimentally, he reached out and touched the mirror, expecting to be sucked back into the room he had left. Instead, his hand encountered cool glass, rough beneath his fingers with the feel of dust. _Fuck_. There had to be an incantation.

An excruciating search of the frame turned up nothing at all. Not even scratches. He would have to leave the room and hope to hell he was still in the Manor. A number of trunks and boxes blocked his path to the door, forcing him to climb over them. He vowed to hunt down the ancestor responsible for the mirror and this room and burn their portrait.

He finally reached the door and wrenched it open to have his worst fears realized. There was no way this was a room in Malfoy Manor. The hallway was short and dark and led to a set of rickety steps where a dim glow filtered up from below. It was then that he noticed the humidity. It was cloying to the point of near suffocation. He had attributed the heat to the enclosed space of the storage room, but here it was even worse. Draco had the terrible feeling he was no longer in England.

Swallowing hard and grasping his wand tightly, he started for the stairs.

Partway down, he heard a voice. "I can 'ere you up dere. You come down so dat I can get a look at you. No one come tru dere in a long time."

Draco had never heard anything like it. His feet carried him the rest of the way to the bottom and he peered through a jungle of bizarre hanging objects to see a woman seated in a thronelike chair watching him curiously. Her hair was dark, twisted into huge dreadlocks and her outfit defied description. Black kohl surrounded her eyes and her lips were dark as dried blood. She sat up and looked at him more closely.

"Well, aren' you da pretty one? Prettier dan Cap'n Jack, dou ye'll never 'ere dat from 'im, now. What you be called, den?"

"I am Draco Malfoy," he stated and looked around carefully. Only one door exited the small room. Not a single window adorned the wall to give him a hint of his whereabouts. "Where am I?"

"You are in da house of Tia Dalma, Draco Malfoy." Her accent gave his name a strange twist, stressing the last syllable of each word. "You come tru da mirror, yes?"

"I did. And I would heartily like to return. Do you know how to activate it in reverse?"

She shook her head and settled back against her seat with an unsettling laugh. "Not dat mirror. It don't send 'em, only bring. Da mirror you want sits wit' Cap'n Jack on da Pearl. At least, last I 'ere it was. Tings don' always stick ter our Jack." Her laugh deepened and Draco frowned.

"Captain Jack? Do you know where I can find this Captain Jack, then?"

She shrugged. "Mebbe I do. Mebbe I don'."

Draco's lips thinned, but at least _this_ was something he understood. Bargaining was second nature to him by now, after taking over the Malfoy business. "What will it cost?"

She leaned forward again. "Smart lad. What I wan' is a trinket. Jack was to give it to me when 'e lost a game we played." Her eyes flashed. "Dat snake run off wit'out payin' me. 'E tink I forget, but I don' forget. I know de proper time will come for me to 'ave me payment. An' look, 'ere you come ter fetch it for me."

"All right. What sort of trinket?"

She waved a be-ringed and braceleted hand airily. "A ruby charm. Wort' a pittance. On a gold chain it be and de size of a man's t'umnail."

"A ruby the size of a man's thumbnail is worth a pittance? Right." He rolled his eyes. "Fine. I will bring you this ruby charm. Where do I find this Captain Jack?"

"Last I 'eard 'e ported at Tortuga. You check dere wit' de proprietor at de Broken Plank. Dey should know where ta find Jack."

"_Tortuga_? Where the hell am I?"

She sat back again and laughed. "Dem is always confused what come tru da mirror. Dis be Haiti, Draco Malfoy. Welcome to Haiti."

_Welcome to Hades_, he corrected morosely.

OOoOO

Harry stepped through the mirror and assumed a defensive stance immediately, not knowing what sort of threat he might face, not the least of which could be the man he was sent to find. Nothing met his gaze other than a dusty room full of assorted detritus and boxes. A single set of footprints cut through the dust and led to the door. Harry sighed and turned back to the mirror, where he noted a trail though the accumulated grime made by someone's hand dragging over it. Knowing it was a waste of time, he did the same, only to find the mirror's surface solid and impassable. There was no way back through there, apparently.

He sighed again and resigned himself to following the footsteps out the door, since it seemed to be the only exit from the room. He picked his way carefully through the boxes as silently as possible and opened the door, which creaked slightly. He found himself in a short hallway and was only slightly startled to hear a voice call from somewhere below, "You can come down 'ere. I am no t'reat to you."

Harry walked down the steps and peered into the semi-darkness. A bizarre-looking woman smiled at him from her throne-like seat. Harry quickly scanned the room, searching for any sign of Malfoy.

"Well, well," she said. "Two 'andsome ones in de same day. I must be de fortunate one."

"He came through here, then?" Harry asked politely. His senses were practically screaming at him and he wondered where the hell the bloody mirror had deposited him. The jaunt had been ugly, far more wrenching than travel by Apparition or Portkey.

"Dat 'e did. You tracking 'im, den?"

"Sort of. Yes."

"I suppose you wan' me to tell you where him are?"

"That would be nice, yes," Harry admitted with a sinking feeling. He had hoped she would simply tell him where Malfoy had gone.

"Dere is a price for dat information."

"Naturally," he muttered.

She stood up and strode toward him. He gripped his wand more tightly as she approached and placed a hand on his cheek. "Dere is a strange power aroun' de two of you. I don' know what it is. Maybe I should 'ave kept de other one… or maybe I should jus' keep you for awhile."

"You might find that a harder task than you think," Harry said quietly.

To his surprise she barked a laugh.

"You know de tings most wort' 'aving are 'ard to get 'an' 'arder yet to 'old."

"Not always," Harry said, although he could not really refute her words.

She shrugged. "All right den. What can you pay me?"

"Gold?" Harry offered. He had some Galleons on him. "Although I'm not carrying much at the moment. I can get you more if you tell me where I am."

She smirked. "I tink you a lot farther away dan you know. Do you 'ave twenty pieces of gold?"

Harry nodded.

"Den dat is my price." She held out her hand. Harry reluctantly tucked his wand away and took his pouch from a robe pocket. He counted out twenty Galleons and realized it only left him with five.

She held one up and then bit the edge before looking at it closely. "Deese be strange coins. Where do you come from?"

"England. Where am I?"

"You be in Haiti."

_Haiti__?_ Fuck, that had been a long jaunt. No wonder he felt ragged. And Apparating home was out of the question.

"Tell me, 'andsome. What be dem sticks you and de other one be 'aving? You 'old dem like weapons, now dat I tink on it."

Harry refrained from grabbing his wand once more. Although it seemed bizarre, the woman seemed to be a Muggle. Or the Muggle version of a witch, which was even stranger.

"Divining rods," he replied. "We use them to find our way. I hope to use mine to find…"

"Draco Malfoy," she supplied.

"Yes. Now, where did he go?"

"Draco Malfoy went to Tortuga to find Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Captain Jack Sparrow?"

"Jack might 'ave de mirror to send you back 'ome."

OOoOO

Getting to Tortuga was a bloody nightmare. Draco did not dare Apparate, since he had never been to the Caribbean in his life. And for some fucked up reason the only forms of transportation available were some Merlin-forsaken sailing ships. Draco wanted to know where the bloody modern yachts were, or even the Muggle aeroport, but his questions were met by blank stares and confused looks. His inability to Apparate was annoying. He wished he could Apparate straight to Malfoy Manor, but attempting such a huge jump would be suicidal. He considered it a wiser course of action to find the damned companion mirror and step through.

Tortuga was hot, humid, and revolting. Draco had to renew his Cooling Charm every twenty minutes as he tramped through the filthy streets searching for the proper tavern. It should have been a simple job, but taverns were in abundance. Apparently there was little to do in the stifling heat other than huddle indoors and drink heavily, although a variety of riffraff lurked in the streets and alleyways. Draco assumed his air of superiority and irritated glare kept them from attacking him en masse.

He finally located a weathered sign with barely legible writing that announced The Broken Plank. It was a ramshackle building close to the beach, but at least it had windows. The pathetic sea breeze was no match for the stench of unwashed drunken bodies, but at least the heat was lessened minutely. Draco made his way to the bar and caught the attention of a one-eyed man with a greasy bandana wrapped around his head.

"What can I get ye?" the man asked.

"I am looking for Jack Sparrow," Draco said in a low tone.

The bartender looked around shiftily. "Never heard of 'im."

Draco sneered. "Just tell me where to find him. I won't mention your damned name, especially since I don't know it. A woman in Haiti told me he frequents this establishment."

"Frequents," the man repeated and snorted a laugh. "Jack ain't welcome 'ere after 'e busted up the place las' night. Ye should try The Barnacle."

"The Barnacle. Is that another tavern?"

The bartender rolled his eyes. "Tis Jack's ship."

Draco sighed. Lovely. Another ship. He had seen enough ships to last him well into his hundreds.

A short jaunt along the pier disclosed the ship in question. Draco had expected to spend hours looking for it, but the squat vessel rocked in the gentle swells at the edge of a dilapidated dock. It seemed barren of crew, so Draco walked up the gangplank and finally encountered a sailor clinging to the rigging. He seemed none too coherent.

"Where is Captain Jack Sparrow?" Draco demanded.

The man blinked at him blearily for a few minutes and his jaw worked as though trying to speak, but finally he just jerked a thumb toward the aft portion of the ship. Draco rolled his eyes and headed for where he assumed the Captain's cabin to be. The door was unlocked, so Draco flung it open.

A large four poster bed sat in the centre of the cabin, flanked by a variety of chests, urns, crates, and containers. The room vaguely resembled a disaster left by a hurricane. Clothing had been strewn everywhere and Draco noted everything from a blue satin dress to dingy white underdrawers. Amid the scattered detritus piled atop the bed lay a man. A hand lifted languidly in Draco's direction.

"Damn that Smitty. When I told him to fetch me a piece of arse, I assumed he would be smart enough to know I meant a _female_ piece of arse." The dark brow wrinkled. "Then again, why would I assume Smitty to be intelligent? He's never demonstrated that quality before. I must make a note of that." The man's speech was slurred and he raised an index finger to inscribe symbols in the air.

"Are you Jack Sparrow?"

"That's _Captain_ Jack Sparrow to you, lovely, and I would advise you to use a more civil tongue if you wish to be brought to the heights of ecstasy. Now come here. I was hoping for some softer company, but at least you're pretty enough." The hand beckoned airily and Draco scowled.

"I am not here for your entertainment. I am looking for a mirror."

Jack made a snorting noise and levered himself off the bed. Draco's eyes narrowed as the man came forward with a mincing sort of step, staggering once and nearly falling before catching himself on the bedpost. He wore only a white linen shirt that had seen better days and a pair of black shorts. His brown hair was long, worn in dreadlocks, and several multicoloured strings had been tied here and there.

Jack stopped when he was close enough for Draco to smell the rum on his breath as he spoke. "The mirror is right over there. Might I suggest, however, that you need not primp yourself for me? I rather like what I see." He reached up and gripped Draco's chin before leaning forward and trying to press a kiss on his lips.

Draco jerked away to glance over at the indicated mirror. It was a simple round sheen of silver hanging from the wall over a barren dressing table. "That can't be it. I came through a mirror that was in a large frame, a carved wooden frame. Tia Dalma told me you had its twin."

Jack pressed kisses into Draco's neck in a distracting fashion and mumbled, "Mmm. You came through the mirror. Isn't that interesting?" His fingers began to unbutton Draco's shirt.

"Do you have the other one?" Draco asked, thinking he should probably stop Jack from molesting him, but it _had_ been a dreadfully long time and Jack was not unattractive. He smelled delightful, apart from the rum, simultaneously spicy and tropical.

"Perhaps," Jack replied and slipped warm hands into Draco's shirt to caress his chest and abdomen. "What sort of payment do you have in mind for the use of my mirror?"

"I…" Draco frowned, realizing he had nothing with which to bargain. He had been lucky enough to be carrying enough gold to pay for passage to Tortuga. "What do you want?"

Jack stepped back and cocked his head. His gaze sharpened and Draco wondered if the man was as drunk as he seemed. A pink tongue flicked out and trailed over Jack's lips as a wicked grin stretched them wide. Draco flushed.

"Besides that," he said.

Jack's eyes swept over him. "That is an interesting ring you have on."

Draco lifted his hand. The green stone of the Malfoy's signet glinted in the light. "Sorry," he said wryly. "That one doesn't come off."

"And what is that fascinating stick you have in your pocket?"

Draco grinned. "You can't have that, either."

Jack pouted and his hands resumed their soft stroking. "Then what can I have?" he asked huskily and moved his fingers lower to cup Draco's growing erection.

"Would you accept that in payment?" Draco asked huskily, shying away from the idea that he was whoring himself out in order to get home. After all, he had been thinking about sleeping with Jack anyway.

Jack smiled. "You think you're that good?"

"I know I'm that good," Draco purred.

Jack wrenched at Draco's clothing, divesting him of all but his silvery silk boxers. "Let's see, shall we?" He pulled Draco to the bed and then dropped atop him as they sprawled over the jewel-toned blankets.

Jack sat up suddenly and dragged the white shirt off over his head to toss it haphazardly next to the bed. Draco perused his tanned body and noted that Jack was rather fit. A single tattoo decorated one arm—a sparrow in flight across a setting sun. Jack pressed forward and attached his lips eagerly to Draco's. He certainly had enthusiasm, Draco noted with amusement.

"You are wickedly sexy," Jack commented around Draco's lips.

"I know," Draco admitted and slid his hands over the corded muscles of Jack's back. Something hard dug into Draco's thigh and Jack sat back with a look of consternation before holding up one finger. He reached down and unbuckled the pistol that had been strapped to one thigh before lobbing it aside to join the discarded shirt.

"That's better," Jack said and resumed his position. This time the hardness against Draco's groin was all Jack and no gunpowder and metal.

"Much better," Draco agreed, warming to the idea of Jack fucking him. Strong hands fumbled at Draco's boxers and then slipped beneath the silk to fondle Draco's hardness. He sighed blissfully. Jack groaned and buried his face in Draco's neck. He stayed that way for long moments… and then longer still.

"Jack?" Draco asked finally when it appeared the man did not plan to move. A soft snore met his question and Draco shoved him off with an oath. "You bastard! Wake up!" Jack's limp form rolled onto the bed, but he made no voluntary movement. He was unconscious. "Fuck!"

Draco lay back with his hands crossed behind his head wondering what the hell he was supposed to do now. His erection could be taken care of with a few strategic strokes, of course, but the _mirror_ was his larger concern.

At that moment the cabin door opened and a black-haired man stepped into the room. Draco barely had time to ponder the stupidity of not casting a Locking Spell when he realized the man was Harry Potter.

OOoOO

Harry was nearly shocked into a stupor. The sight of a nearly nude Draco Malfoy sprawled on a huge bed with a _very_ obvious erection tenting his pale boxers was enough to stun even the most hardened Auror. Or so he told himself when the moments ticked by with nothing to break the silence except the agitated beating of his heart. Malfoy, of course, fixed that.

"Potter. Dare I even ask why you are here?"

"I'm looking for you, of course."

"You've found me. I do hope you have a way for us to get home."

Harry tugged at his forelock before he caught himself and put his hand down. He tried to look anywhere in the room but at Malfoy's pale flesh and fixed his gaze on the other undressed body in the room instead. "Not exactly. Is that Captain Sparrow?"

"Yes. What do you mean 'not exactly'?"

"We need to find the other mirror. Does… erm… does the Captain here know where it is?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "We had not quite made it to that information."

Harry frowned. "You got distracted?"

Malfoy glared and sat up. His erection had thankfully diminished, Harry noted, and then chastised himself for noticing. "For your information, Potter, I was using my considerable charm to finesse the whereabouts of the mirror from him."

Harry laughed. "I can see how well that went. I think your charm needs some work."

"Shut up, Potter." Malfoy dragged on a pair of trousers. "While Jack is resting, I suggest we search the ship. Perhaps we will be fortunate enough to locate the mirror."

"All right," said Harry with a shrug. It would be simpler to search the ship without interference from its sleeping captain.

Malfoy snatched up his wand, but did not bother to replace his robes or shirt. He smirked at Harry, who suspected the blond only went half-bare to irritate him. Or possibly to entice him. He looked speculatively from Malfoy to Captain Jack. _Had Malfoy really been prepared to—?_

"Before he wakes up, Potter."

Harry scowled and spun on a heel. A quick Stunner incapacitated the drunken sailor that had directed him to Jack's quarters, leaving them free to descend to the lower decks. Harry went first and lit his wand with a dim _Lumos_. He stopped on the bottom step and Malfoy ploughed into him. Only a quick grab for the wall kept Harry from toppling. Malfoy was pressed his against him and he felt soft lips brush his cheek.

"Fuck, Potter."

Harry's mind nearly derailed at the sound of those two words together, coming from Malfoy with the vision of his nearly-nude body so fresh in Harry's memory. He took a shuddering breath. "Someone is here."

_Someone_ called out at that moment. "Tumen? That be ye?"

"Aye!" Harry returned in a rough voice.

A stumpy looking man hurried toward them and his sword snicked against the scabbard as he drew it. "Ye ain't Tumen!"

Malfoy's quick Stunner threw the man backward against a stack of casks. He slumped on the floor. Malfoy sidled over and lifted the man's cutlass before swishing it through the air with a dramatic flair. "Avast ye!" he cried and brandished the weapon at Harry, who frowned. "Oh, lighten up, Potter. You're just jealous because I would make a far better pirate than you."

"I think that goes without saying."

Draco sneered. "I forgot. The Chosen One is far too pure and noble to be a pirate."

"Can we just look for the damned mirror?" Harry snapped, unwilling to be drawn into another of Malfoy's idiotic arguments.

"By all means," Malfoy said mildly and gestured at the stacked goods with the cutlass.

They saw no other crew members and spent what seemed hours searching the hold for anything resembling a mirror. They found bolts of silk, casks of rum, crates of sugar and assorted fruit, and a huge collection of worthless looking conch shells.

"This is insane," Harry snapped finally, at his wit's end. Malfoy was nowhere to be seen—they had parted a short distance back when Harry found himself tempted to throw a crateful of rusty cannonballs at the blond.

"Indeed it is, mate. Now suppose you tell me what you're doing down here."

Harry turned to see Captain Jack—clothed only in dark linen breeches—holding a Muggle pistol on him.

"Ah, there you are, Jack," Malfoy said breezily as he stepped from behind a crate with cutlass held steady. "I followed this fellow down here when it seemed he was contemplating some sort of nefarious business."

"Really?" Jack's eyes flicked over to Malfoy and Harry thought the man was far more intelligent than he looked. He quelled his urge to yell at Malfoy, realizing it might be better to have one of them free than both clapped in irons. "And why would you do that, pretty? You know, I never did catch your name."

"It's not important. What is important is that our business is not concluded. I won't have this blackguard doing anything that might jeopardize our… negotiations."

"Yes." Jack coughed slightly. "I'm afraid I was a bit tired before. Too much late night entertainment. You know how it is when you're the famous Captain Jack Sparrow. Or, actually… you don't. But trust me, it's not always easy to be me."

Harry's hand tightened around his wand, because while Jack's free hand minced through the air with each pronouncement, the hand holding the pistol remained steady. Malfoy's wand was nowhere in sight and three crewmembers huddled around Jack, looking piratical and menacing.

"Enough chitchat. Slap him in irons, boys, and toss him in the brig until I decide what to do with him," Jack said airily.

"The brig? Really?" Draco asked with an odd tone to his voice.

Jack's eyes flicked sideways.

"I mean, he's rather fit, don't you think? Might we not find some… other… use for him?"

Harry was not sure he liked Malfoy's implication, but he kept his mouth shut, assuming the blond had some sort of plan.

"Hmmm, you might be right. Fitzy, grab that stick he's holding." A large man stepped forward obediently and took Harry's wand. He did not dare resist with Jack holding the pistol; he doubted his quickest Shield Charm would stop a bullet. When Harry was disarmed, Jack moved toward Malfoy and slipped an arm around his waist. He stepped back holding Malfoy's wand, obviously plucked from a pocket. "I'm not quite so drunk that I forgot about _your_ little twig, lovely. Let's all go back to my cabin and have a little chin wag, hmmm? Fitzy, I think we should still shackle that one. He looks dangerous to me."

Harry scowled as Fitzy produced a set of heavy irons and clamped them around his wrists. He glared at Malfoy and hoped to hell the blond had something in mind other than Harry's humiliation.

Fitzy towed Harry back topside and then dragged him inside Jack's cabin where his shackles were attached to an iron ring high on one bedpost. Jack lounged on the bed, still holding the pistol, which he waved in a dangerous fashion to shoo out his helpful crew.

"How do you two know each other?" Jack asked when the door closed. Malfoy had positioned himself near the door, leaning against the wall nonchalantly.

"We're old friends, aren't we, Harry?" Malfoy's voice was tinged with sarcasm. "Actually, he came through the mirror after me. I intend to go back. You can keep him, if you like."

"What?" Harry wrenched at his bonds. "You bastard! Is that your _plan_?"

"You're far too trusting," Malfoy said with a laugh. "Jack, do you intend to uphold our bargain? Do you have the mirror?"

"I might know where it is," Jack said. "I'll take you there, provided you entertain me properly."

Malfoy moved forward until he stood behind Harry, who considered throwing his head back and cracking the blond's nose. Soft lips brushing against the shell of his ear stopped him. Whatever Malfoy intended to say was curtailed by Jack's sardonic voice.

"So, this fellow came through the mirror to find you and you plan to toss him to the wolves, or more accurately the pirates, eh? That's not very sporting." Jack laughed. "I like it."

"He only came after me because it's his job. If it were his choice he would have left me here to rot," Malfoy said. His warm breath caressed Harry's ear.

"That's not true!" Harry protested hotly.

Jack swung his feet off the bed and reached for something in a bedside drawer. He came up with a tiny dagger and got to his feet.

"So, you're saying you have feelings for this blond Adonis, then?"

Harry's jaw worked as he tried to find words. It was difficult to think with Malfoy nibbling at his ear and Jack Sparrow coming closer with naked steel in his hand. "I… I… Well, it depends on what you define as feelings!"

Jack leaned close to murmur in Harry's other ear. "Amorous feelings, Harry. Erotic feelings. How could you not? Look at him, he's gorgeous."

Harry swallowed hard and shut his eyes, picturing Malfoy's smug expression at the words. Before he could formulate a response, he felt a brush of steel against his chest and then a sharp tug as Jack's dagger split his shirt open along the buttons. "Hey!" he yelped.

"You're wearing far too many, clothes, love," Jack purred. "Don't you agree, beautiful?"

"Draco. My name is Draco."

"Don't you agree, Draco?"

"I certainly do," Malfoy said and Harry bit his lip on another shout when his sleeves were cut open and the ruined shirt fell to the floor. He nearly gasped when Malfoy's hands slid over his bare back, but he was quickly distracted by Jack's dagger sliding into the waistband of his trousers.

"Oh no," Harry said in a panicked tone and pulled uselessly at his shackled. "Oh no, wait—"

Too late. The dagger flashed downward, slicing Harry's trousers and pants open from waist to ankle. Before they could gape open, Jack flipped the steel into his other hand and did the same to the other side. Harry made a strangled noise when the cloth dropped away, leaving him clad in nothing but black boots. Jack's eyes travelled over his body and several gold teeth gleamed when he smiled.

"Nice arse, Potter," Malfoy murmured against Harry's neck and then he felt warm hands cup his buttocks. _Malfoy is touching my arse_, he thought stupidly, but then Jack Sparrow dropped to his knees and Harry had an entirely new set of frightful ideas.

"I see why you like him, Draco," Jack said and pressed his lips against the tip of Harry's cock after slipping his fingers beneath and caressing the length of the underside. Harry barely suppressed a shout, especially when his cock defied him by perking up and thickening rapidly.

Malfoy's foot suddenly kicked one of Harry's boots, sending his legs skidding apart and causing Harry to dangle crazily from the shackles for a moment before he recovered his balance. Malfoy's feet prevented him from closing his legs and he was left in an insanely vulnerable position. He craned his head over his shoulder to try and discover what Malfoy was about.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, but the last word came out with a squeak as Jack's mouth covered his penis and sucked eagerly. "Oh my god."

"I can't let Jack have all the fun," Malfoy said throatily and Harry felt the blond's lips on the back of his neck before they slowly moved down over his spine, leaving a wet trail in their wake. Harry found himself breathing raggedly when Malfoy's mouth reached the crack of his arse cheeks. It was hard to concentrate with Jack sucking mightily on his cock, but his attention snapped quickly to the rear when he felt his buttocks pulled open by Malfoy's firm grip and then his hot, wet tongue dipped into the crack and touched the tight ring of his arsehole. Harry cried out and shivered in his bonds.

"Oh god, oh oh oh oh," he mumbled in a random pattern. Malfoy licked his arsehole once, twice, thrice, and Harry thought he might explode from the incredible sensations.

"Want me to stop, Potter?" Draco asked and his breath was hot, so hot, against Harry's quivering flesh.

_Stop? He was going to stop?_ Jack's tongue flicked over the tip of his cock and Harry's brain shorted out completely.

"No, god no, don't stop, fuck, please…"

"All in good time, Harry," Jack said and then Malfoy's tongue was back and Harry gave up all attempts at coherency as he handed himself over to sensation. With the combined feeling of Jack at his front and Malfoy in the rear—bloody hell, Malfoy's tongue was _inside_ him!—Harry's release was imminent.

"Wait!" Jack yelled suddenly.

Malfoy pulled away and Harry drew in a ragged, sobbing breath. He looked down at Jack, who tugged at his beard in a thoughtful manner.

"This is all wrong," Jack said. "Draco, my boy, why should Harry have all the fun?"

Malfoy's tongue lapped at the top of Harry's crack and sent his pulse singing again as his arsehole quivered in anticipation. He wished Jack would get the fuck to the point so they could continue where they had left off. Malfoy made a noncommittal grunt that Jack Sparrow seemed to take as agreement.

"I think a change of location is in order," Jack continued and got to his feet. Harry tried to regain control, but Malfoy seemed intent on driving him crazy, continuing to lap lightly at the edges of Harry's arse crack.

Jack unfastened the shackles from the bedpost and then dragged Harry bodily toward the bed; he tripped and fell upon it, catching himself with his elbows. Jack did not pause, but stretched Harry's arms forward until he was shackled once more, this time to the headboard. Harry had to crouch on his knees to avoid arching his back uncomfortably.

Malfoy dragged Harry's boots off while Jack threw himself on the bed and squirmed over so he could look up into Harry's face. Now that the threat of impending orgasm had passed, the clouds had lifted slightly from Harry's thought processes. He glared at Jack.

"Who should bottom?" Jack mused. "Although Harry seems more than willing, I rather fancy a good poke, myself. I'm much too tired to be bothered with all that grunting and thrusting. Perhaps your blond friend has enough energy to take on both of us, eh? What say you, Draco?"

"You and Potter can both bottom, if you like. After all, Potter is famous for doing things no one else can. I'll bet he can bottom and top at the same time."

Harry frowned, trying to wrap his mind around Malfoy's suggestion while twisting his shackles, testing for weakness. Jack laughed.

"I think I shall be sorry when our business is concluded, Draco, my love. I do adore the way you think."

With that, Jack shucked his trousers and manoeuvred himself beneath Harry, who gripped the headboard tightly as he looked down into the winsome face. He drew in a shuddering breath when he felt Malfoy touch his arse. Cool hands slid over his buttocks and Malfoy's thumbs slipped between his arse cheeks, opening him for perusal. Harry blushed hotly and Jack laughed.

"He is cute, isn't he? You should keep him, Draco."

"Maybe I will," Malfoy muttered behind him.

OOoOO

Draco's thumbs caressed Potter's flesh lightly before pushing his cheeks open to gaze at Potter's reddened hole. It seemed to clench slightly, as though awaiting the next caress of Draco's tongue. _Fuck_, he never would have suspected the damned Chosen One could be so mind-numbingly hot.

He forced his eyes away from Potter's entrance and looked at Jack, whose pert arse had lifted slightly, as if hoping the Auror would take the hint and impale him. Draco laughed.

"He's wretchedly conservative, Jack. You'll have to help him out."

Jack groaned and then Potter made a strangled noise that told Draco that Jack had most likely grabbed Potter's cock. He took it as an excuse to nuzzle his face down and lick Potter's arsehole again, delighting at the delicious shudder that shook the Auror. Fuck, he was incredibly responsive.

"Wait, wait, I—" Potter was trying to postpone the inevitable. Draco shoved his tongue firmly into Potter's tight heat and the words were strangled by a broken cry. Draco tongue-fucked him until Potter was a quivering mess, much to Jack's annoyance.

The pirate spoke petulantly. "Draco, love, you are spoiling my fun. Leave off and let the poor boy think long enough to slide his prick in, hmm?"

Draco sighed and pulled his tongue away, suppressing the urge to keep up the motion until Potter came. The thought of it alone made Draco's cock leak copiously. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so hard. Still, the idea of fucking Potter had its own merit, now that he was open and ready.

Potter groaned as Jack Sparrow guided the Auror's cock into Jack's nether entrance. Draco smirked as he wondered how many times Jack had been fucked—probably more than the drunken sot would ever remember. Draco knew without a doubt that Potter had never been touched by another man. His virginal arse was Draco's property. He nudged Potter's entrance with his cock, smearing precome to mix with the lingering saliva. Potter froze and tensed instantly.

"Do keep moving, love. Stopping sort of defeats the purpose," Jack commented.

"I can't… I don't…" Potter tried for coherency and failed.

"I'll help you out, Potter," Draco said and thrust forward, sheathing himself completely in brilliant heat. Potter yelped and Jack cried out happily.

"Bloody fucking hell!" Potter snapped.

"It will get better, Potter," Draco said soothingly.

"Damn right it will," Jack added and rocked his hips upward. Potter hissed, but he relaxed slightly, probably from the distraction of having his cock buried in Jack's arse. Draco waited until Jack moved downward and then he eased himself out of Potter. When Jack thrust his hips upward, Draco rammed down. He nearly chuckled when Potter made an amazing gurgling noise and gripped the headboard so tightly Draco thought he might crack the wood.

"I'm not supposed to be doing the work here, remember?" Jack said in a lazy tone and grabbed Potter's hips in his tanned fingers, weaving them in between Draco's, who already held Potter's pelvis tightly.

"Move with me, Harry," Draco suggested in Potter's ear before pressing a wet kiss into the soft skin behind his ear and breathing in the scent of Potter's thick hair, slightly damp now from nervous exertion. Potter tried to nod.

Draco pulled nearly out and noted that Potter did the same. When Draco thrust downward, it pushed Potter into Jack, who threw back his head and yelled loudly. For a surprised instant, Draco thought they had hurt the pirate, but then he laughed and slapped Potter hard on the arse.

"Now you've got it, lads! A few more of those and I'll be losing my load for the third time in… oh several hours. I think. Carry on. This calls for a drink." Jack reached under his pillow and procured a silver flask. The movement dislodged something and Draco's eyes narrowed at the view of two wand tips—Jack had stuffed their wands beneath the pillow, right where Draco could reach them. Luckily, the idiot had no idea of their potential as weapons.

For an instant he thought about snatching them up, but Potter made an erotic moan after a particularly deep thrust and Draco forgot all about wands for a moment as he tried to stave off his orgasm. He absolutely refused to come first.

Jack tried to drink while being pounded into—Potter was moving faster, in perfect rhythm with Draco—and sloshed rum all over his chest. "Damn me, I used to never spill a drop. Must be getting old. Oh yes, I do believe I'm coming, lads! Yes, yes, thar she blows!"

Draco bit into Potter's shoulder to choke back a laugh, but the Auror cried out and tightened measurably around Draco's cock—spurred on by the bite? Draco dimly filed it away for future reference, but the intensity of Potter's orgasm triggered his own. Draco clamped his teeth into Potter's shoulder once more and let the sensation rush through him, driving hard into the Auror's beautiful arse until he expelled every drop of fluid in a rush of tingling bliss. He collapsed in a boneless heap, not caring that he crushed both Potter and Jack.

"Boys, I've… grown somewhat fond of breathing," Jack mumbled somewhere beneath Potter's throat.

Draco's hand slid out and gripped both wands before he levered himself backward. He cast a quick spell on Potter's shackles as he slipped out of the bed, taking care to keep both wands steadily pointed at the potentially irate Auror. Potter lifted himself away from Jack when the iron cuffs fell away. Jack waved a hand dreamily and lifted the flask in the other.

"Jolly good, lads. I'll be here if you need me. Feel free to search my ship again for the mirror. Of course, it's not on board, but you may search if it tickles your fancy."

Draco pulled on his trousers and watched with interest as Potter moved away from Jack and pushed himself out of bed, grimacing and wincing at the same time. Draco thought it was a fascinating expression and he cast a Cleaning Charm at the Auror as a reward. He couldn't do anything about the soreness, but at least he could take care of the mess. Potter threw him a glare in return, the ungrateful prat.

"My clothes are ruined," he snapped.

"You know, Harry, I like you better without them," Jack commented with a wink.

"He has a point," Draco admitted. Potter flushed and Draco grinned, wondering how the man that had taken down Voldemort could look so damned cute.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Potter growled and turned to rummage in Jack's chests. The pirate seemed to have a ludicrous amount of them packed into the room. Most of them contained clothing and Potter was soon outfitted in skin-tight black linen trousers that caused the moisture in Draco's throat to mysteriously disappear. A lace-trimmed white shirt billowed at the sleeves. Draco tossed him a red sash and Potter rolled his eyes, but wrapped it around his waist and tied it off. He looked like a bona fide pirate and Draco knew he would have fantasy wank material for several months.

"What?" Potter snapped. He certainly was touchy after sex.

"Nothing," Draco said mildly. "Here, catch."

He tossed Potter's wand and the Auror snatched it out of the air easily. His green eyes widened in surprise. Draco smirked, half-daring the Gryffindor to hex him. He could see Potter considering it, so he lifted his wand and levelled it at Jack Sparrow.

"_Imperio!_" he said.

"What are you doing?" Potter cried. "You can't use an Unforgiveable in the presence of an Auror!"

"In case you haven't noticed, Potter, we are not in England any more. We don't even seem to be in our own _time_, so it's likely the bloody laws have not been written yet. Do you prefer to sit around here and wait for Sparrow to take us to the mirror?"

"I don't like you very much," Potter said by way of argument.

Draco quickly stepped closer to the Auror. "Maybe I can change your mind about that," he purred.

Surprisingly, Potter did not shove him away. "Let's just get the mirror," he muttered.

OOoOO

Harry stood at the railing and watched the spray leap against the hull of the ship. He shot a glance at Malfoy, who was perched at the prow looking like some Viking god of the sea with his platinum hair blowing and white shirt fluttering. Harry had to admit he would have made a very fine pirate. As if aware of his thoughts, Malfoy turned his head and caught Harry's gaze. He forced himself not to look away, but he could not stop the blush that tinted his cheeks at the memory of what they had done.

Malfoy turned around to give Harry his full attention and a rogue wave reared up suddenly.

"Look out!" Harry yelled as the water covered the Slytherin and threatened to wash him overboard. He rushed forward and was relieved when the wave sluiced over the deck and revealed Malfoy clinging to the railing. No longer a noble Viking, Malfoy more resembled a drowned rat. He straightened and glared at Harry as if the wave had been sent on his orders. Harry grinned.

His grin faltered when Malfoy pushed himself from the rail and stalked forward. His eyes widened when he took in the sodden clothing that left nothing to Harry's imagination. Malfoy's chest stood out in clear definition beneath the now-translucent white shirt and his erect nipples were plainly visible. The Slytherin had taken to dressing in white linen trousers and those also revealed every delicious curve of his body.

Malfoy paused in his stride and looked down in curiosity, probably wondering why Harry's jaw gaped open like a landed carp. Harry shut his mouth with a snap as Malfoy's brows rose into the wet strands of his hair. A familiar smirk twisted Malfoy's lips and he continued to walk forward.

"Like what you see, Potter?" he asked in a voice that sent a shiver down Harry's spine. "Perhaps you would like to dry me off?"

The thought of towelling Malfoy's nude body was enough to send the blood crashing into Harry's cock. _Oh fuck_, he was hard for Malfoy. He briefly considered throwing himself overboard, but an arm wrapped around his waist from behind and trapped him against a hard chest.

"We will arrive in an hour," Jack said against Harry's neck and then placed a nibbling bite there. "Are you sure you won't stay? Draco, you once said you wanted to leave Harry here. I'll take very good care of him." Jack's hand strayed into the open collar of Harry's shirt and toyed with one nipple. Another jolt made its way to Harry's cock, which was very disturbing. It was one thing to be attracted to Draco Malfoy, who was decidedly handsome, but quite another to be turned on by Jack Sparrow.

Malfoy kept moving forward until the wet cloth of his shirt dripped onto Harry's boots. When he spoke, his voice was a gentle purr. "Actually, I've grown somewhat fond of our Harry." To underscore his words, Malfoy reached out and cupped Harry's painfully hard erection. "You want to go home, don't you, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry said before Malfoy's mouth crushed down on his. Jack bit almost painfully into Harry's neck and his fingers kneaded his erect nipple. Jack's other hand clenched onto one arse cheek. Malfoy's tongue slid over Harry's and caressed places he hadn't known would cause erotic tingles to flutter through his nervous system. He moaned wantonly and curled a hand into Malfoy's wet hair, curving his fingers around his neck and pulling him closer. He stopped thinking about right and wrong and gave in to pure sensation.

Malfoy sucked on Harry's tongue and nearly caused him to come in his pants when long fingers stroked his erection. Harry thrust his pelvis forward, grinding into Malfoy's palm, assisted by the hardness of Jack's cock rubbing against his arse.

"You said we have an hour, Jack?" Malfoy asked in a shaking tone before nibbling on Harry's lips.

"Mmmm hmmm," Jack replied from his place at Harry's neck.

"Your cabin. Now."

The three of them made a mad scramble for the Captain's cabin.

OOoOO

Draco curled his fingers into the ringlets of Potter's pubic hair and tugged gently. The Auror growled lightly but made no other protest. Draco's head rested on Potter's shoulder and Potter's hand curved over Draco's arm and drew lazy patterns on his bicep. Jack's head was nestled on Potter's abdomen and his hot breath wafted over Draco's fingers. One of Jack's hands toyed with Potter's balls. Draco doubted it would be long before the Auror was ready to go again—the Defeater of Voldemort seemed to have endless stamina.

He and Jack had left Potter in the middle, but this time Draco took the bottom position while Jack fucked the Auror. Bloody hell, but Potter was a marvel. His cock was just as delightful as his arse had been.

Draco's fingers curled again and Potter groaned. "Stop that," he said, but his tone was teasing. "We have a mirror to find."

"You're right. Jack, take us to the mirror now."

"Won't you stay just a bit longer?" Jack asked sleepily. "You would be terrific help in my search for the Sword of Cortes."

"You've got to be kidding," Draco replied. "We would spend all of our time right here and you would forget all about hunting for your sword."

"Hmmm. Yes, well, I suppose you have a point. All right then. One more session and we'll go."

Draco waited for a protest from Potter. Amazingly, there was none. Draco's fingers moved through the curls and located Potter's cock only to find it hard again. Bloody hell, the Auror was amazing.

They stood before the mirror several hours later, having neglected their self-imposed time limit in favour of other activities. Jack's arms rested over the shoulders of both him and Potter.

"I'll miss you dreadfully," he said forlornly.

"I think you'll miss Potter's arse and my tongue," Draco said dryly.

"Exactly. Isn't that what I said? At any rate, here is the mirror. I'm not sure what good it will do you fellows, except to remind you how stunningly handsome I am." Jack unhooked a hand from Draco and reached up to stroke his moustache before wiggling his eyebrows in approval and throwing his reflection a cheeky grin. Draco had to admit the bastard had personality to spare.

"Shall we, Potter?" Draco asked.

The Gryffindor looked at him with slightly haunted green eyes, but he nodded.

"Goodbye, Jack. It's been interesting," Potter said politely. Jack stepped back and shook Potter's hand before turning his hand over and running his fingers over Potter's wrist. The Auror drew in a breath and Draco made another mental note. _Sensitive wrists_. He was gathering quite a list of information about Potter for hopefully future use

Draco lifted his wand and read the incantation around the frame of the huge mirror, hoping the bizarre words would take them home. This mirror read, "God save the Queen." He took a firm grip on Potter's hand and said them aloud. To be safe, Potter said them in unison. With a burst of silvery brilliance, they were swept away.

They stepped from the mirror into a familiarly cluttered room. Draco barely suppressed the urge to drop to his knees and kiss the ground. He was home!

Potter looked around almost nervously. "Are we in the right time period?" he asked, distrustful Auror to the end. Oddly, he had not removed his hand from Draco's.

"Yes. I moved that chest over there just last week. It had been over near the door for decades. I wonder how long we've been gone, though. Let's go find Mother."

Potter finally detached his hand and cleared his throat. "You can go find your mother. If you don't mind, I'll get back to the Ministry and… file a report." Potter blushed attractively and Draco knew there would be plenty of information omitted from that report.

"Harry?" Draco asked when the Auror reached the door. Potter paused with his hand on the latch. "Will you come to dinner tonight? I'd like to thank you properly for coming to rescue me."

Potter turned to look at him with eyes as wide as saucers. Draco moved forward quickly and pressed him into the door before snogging him thoroughly. Every time Potter tried to pull away or speak, Draco would deepen the kiss. Soon Potter's hands fluttered weakly around Draco's waist and twisted in the cloth of his white shirt.

When Draco finally allowed the Auror to speak, he whispered, "What's for dessert?"

"I don't know, but it will be served in my bedroom," Draco replied silkily.

"I'll be here," Potter said and escaped.

Draco smiled when the door shut behind the black-haired man. He turned back to look at the mirror and pulled a thin gold chain from beneath his shirt. A thumbnail-sized ruby dangled from the delicate links—the stone Tia Dalma had requested as payment for telling him how to find Jack Sparrow. Draco had no idea how he was supposed to get the thing to her, but she was a dimension away now. _What could she do?_


End file.
